SkinWalker
by Titan16
Summary: "The bullets, just like with the other four seemingly unconnected murders, were pure silver. Perfect for killing skinwalkers like John." ON HAIUTS!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer-Not mine.**

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John and Sherlock slowly circled the body of what had once been a young man. His name had been Thomas Zaire, they knew, but any other information had not been shared. Thomas had been lean, with a narrow face splashed with freckles. His body was torn violently apart by bullets, knotting his chocolate hair with his own blood, and it looked as if the wounds left behind had been burned with a hot iron.

John knew better, of course.

The bullets, just like with the other four seemingly unconnected murders, were pure silver. Perfect for killing skinwalkers like John.

"It's odd." Sherlock said as John crouched to inspect the wounds, rolling the body on its back in the process. "It's as if the bullets were coated in acid, but acid would not burn the flesh like this."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, deep in thought.

Lestrade cleared his throat from somewhere in the corner of the alleyway. "Any useful observations, Sherlock?" He asked, eyebrow raised. His lips quirk up. "Or are you going to stand there all night stating the obvious?"

Sherlock replied, in a rather snippy tone, "Young man, late twenties, American, judging by his clothes, but probably permanently moved here with a sister, or female cousin, since the one name in his phone is Sill. No job, and still thinks of himself more of a tourist. Ex-military, and going by his hair cut and body build, most likely Afghanistan. He died running and most likely attempting to jump this rather tall wall."

_Not tall for a wolf_, thinks John.

"Anything else you need, Detective Inspector?"

"His phone. We need to contact his 'sister or fema'—"

"Sister." Said John, rising from his crouch. "He had a sister named Silver. "

At the odd glances, he elaborates, "Their troop worked with mine, briefly. Sill was his only family left. Was with her all the time. "

_He's lying_, thought Sherlock.

Standing, John looked at Lestrade. "If it's all right, I would like to notify her myself. Familiar face and all."

"Of course", said Lestrade.

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**This is just a tiny bit of a rather random idea of mine. If you want me to continue, please review, because I'm not quite sure about it so far.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer-Not Mine. But my birthday _is_ soon...**

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John stepped up the steps of the apartment, Sherlock trailing closely behind. He raised his hand to knock, but before his hand could touch the door, it swung open, revealing a young woman, obviously related to Thomas, whith the same hair, eyes, and even pattern of their freckles.

She looked at John, then Sherlock. She gave a sniff, then said, "He's dead, aint he?"

"_Isn't_ he." Sherlock muttered at the same time that John answered, "I'm so sorry, Si—"

"No, I expected it, what with all the killing of the other…. People." Sherlock's eyes narrowed at her hesitation. "Were they supposed to be something else?" He asked.

She looked startled. "Of course not. I didn't mean to insinuate that they weren't."

"Yes, you—"

"We'd better go, Sherlock." John said hurriedly. "I'm sure Miss Zaire here wants to grieve, _right_?"

"Whatever." She snips. "I _just_ want to _talk_ to him again. " Her tone was withering as she slammed the door in their faces.

"That went better than I expected." John said dryly.

* * *

Sherlock slammed his hands on John's laptop. Originally, they had been there because the killings were escalating, the victims were random, with no gang ties whatsoever. This meant that Lestrade and his lot not only couldn't find them, but confirmed his suspicion that they couldn't investigate their way out of a paper bag.

But now, with John's and…. Sam's? Sill's? Poorly hidden message to meet later, he knew that there was way more to this case than there seemed. _Much_ more. Deciding that enough time had passed since John had left, he stood and went out the door after his friend.

Following him to an ally only a block from the young woman's home, he stopped, knowing that it was a dead end, and he could listen unobserved from where he was just fine.

But as time went on, all he heard was the hum of the city around him, and when he went into the alleyway, all he saw was a German Sheppard and Greyhound, a rather odd combination, skitter out.

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John looked up from where he was to see Sherlock's eyes widen in shock, shortly followed by him moving in the familiar way that signaled the fact that he was investigating. He and Sill leapt up, smoothly running away, reaching her home in mere seconds. Shifting back to human with only the smallest hint of rather dull pain, they stood, and finally, Sill dropped the emotionless act. Sobbing, she dropped, and John barely caught her in time.

If they had been human, they would have felt radically awkward, but the three of them—Sill, John, and Thomas—had all been bitten at the same time, by the same walker while they went camping with their parents, who worked together. John had been only ten, and the twins barely even seven, so they all had gotten used to not only shifting and avoiding silver, but seeing each other _after_ shifting as well.

Voice soft, he said, "I hate to ask, but had Tom hurt anyone, or even done anything unusual recently?" She swallowed and shook her head.

"No." she said. "And neither had any of the others—one of which was completely human, by the way."

"I know." frowned John. "I thought it might be a hunter, but there's been no mauling's, no killings…"

"It was amateurs." Sill said suddenly.

"What?"

"Amateurs. Look at the bodies, all shot up like that…. They were killing for no reason, and not accurately at all, like they didn't know where to hit. Revenge killing, probably. "

John looked startled. "You're right, I suppose." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "You know, I think you and Sherlock would get along _famously_…"

* * *

Ten miles away, the crowd cheered as two dogs, one slightly larger than the other, threw themselves forward.

Blood flew, and from the tangle of limbs, a dog's yelp turned into a human's scream. As it slowly got softer, the wriggling stopped, and the crowd saw the larger of the two animals had its teeth sunk deep into its opponent's throat.

As money exchanged hands, the skinwalker howled his victory.

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**Sorry for the wait, but between a two-week 'vacation' that had ZERO internet and/or phone service, severe writers block, and chronic laziness, I only got this out because my last chapter got the most reviews that one of my chapters has EVER gotten. Don't worry though, I promise that I will update soon, and to prevent any Mary-Sues, I'll try to leave Sill behind. Review, please?**

**Thank you to my two anonymous reviewers, _Heartwing, ThePurppleDragoness, _and_ ConstantSnow_ for reviewing, as well as the ten people who followed and four who favorited this story!**


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